


one minute to midnight

by lazyfish



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Gen, Mentions of Hope Mackenzie, Time Travel, and by that i mean there's like two abstract mentions of hunter, background Huntingbird - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24798016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazyfish/pseuds/lazyfish
Summary: The team jumps to New Year's Eve, 2004, in a small town in California. Mack recognizes the place as his best friend's hometown, and on his walk to clear his head finds a little more than he expects.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie & Bobbi Morse
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	one minute to midnight

“When are we now, Simmons?” Mack asked, straightening himself. The Zephyr’s last jump hadn’t been smooth, which wasn’t surprising, but he was more concerned with whether or not they’d accidentally caused a commotion again.

“Well, on the bright side, there won’t be any concern about something bright shooting through the sky at high speed,” Jemma answered, without actually answering.

“What?” Daisy asked. Mack had to agree - he was pretty sure the chances of them flying over Area 51 twice were low.

“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Jemma said. She pointed to the screen next to her station, which had tapped into the local television station. Sure enough, there was the ball, hanging at the top of a lit-up pillar, and at the bottom of the screen, a _Welcome 2005!_ banner in obnoxious gold lettering. A countdown ticked down in the corner - they were thirty-one minutes from seeing a new year.

“It’s a recording, so we must be somewhere not on the East Coast,” Jemma reported.

That still left a wide swath of the country they could be in, though. 

“Just Google it,” Daisy suggested.

“Google?” Deke echoed.

“I’ll explain later,” Jemma said. “We don’t need to Google. The GPS just located us.” She pointed at the main viewer, where a red dot pulsed somewhere in Southern California.

“Idyllwild,” May read. “Ring a bell for anyone?”

Mack swallowed hard. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

“It does?” Coulson asked. “I don’t remember seeing it in any S.H.I.E.L.D. files.” It went unsaid that with his new robotic brain, Coulson would have remembered if he had seen it. 

“Well, we’re only supposed to be here for a little over half an hour, so -”

“We’re only here until the new year,” Mack interrupted. The countdown now blipping down on Jemma’s screen was exactly two minutes ahead of the countdown on the television. 

“You said you recognized the name?” Daisy prompted.

“Yeah, it’s - it’s Bobbi’s hometown.” He’d been there exactly once, when Bobbi’s dad had died. He’d stayed in a motel on the edge of the small town for a week, helping Bobbi deal with her dad’s shit and generally trying to be a supportive friend. Needless to say, most of the memories weren’t happy ones.

“What could the Chronicoms want with Bobbi?” Daisy wondered.

“I suppose you could make the argument that without Bobbi and Hunter sacrificing themselves in Russia, S.H.I.E.L.D. wouldn’t be as we know it any longer, but -”

“She’s twenty-one. Finishing her PhD. She decides to go to the Academy in less than six months,” Mack cut Jemma off. He didn’t really want to think about Russia right now. He wanted even less to think about the Chronicoms trying to assassinate one of his best friends before they even met. 

“So they’re trying to -”

“Jemma,” Daisy said softly. “Give him a moment.”

Mack wanted to argue he didn’t need a moment, but that would be stupid, because he did.

“Is now a bad time to ask who Bobbi is?” Deke asked.

Jemma sighed. “Yes, Deke, it is.”

“I’m gonna go get some air,” Mack said, lurching towards the exit to the Zephyr. Elena met his eyes, a silent question written on her face, but he shook his head. He wanted to be alone right now.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever thought of Bobbi and Hunter since they began this wild goose chase through time. The opposite was true - every day he’d wondered if maybe, maybe… It would’ve been so easy to grab them before taking off; they weren’t fugitives in the past, at least not more than the rest of them were. But Mack _hoped_ they were living a good life now, one they could be proud of, and he didn’t want to ruin that life by barging in unannounced.

What if they had said no to him?

The December air was crisp but not as cold as Mack was used to around Christmastime. Perks of being in the south, he supposed.

They had landed nearer to the town than Mack would’ve otherwise liked, in a small field. There were ranches everywhere around here - when he’d come to visit he’d made a game of counting cows with Bobbi, to get her mind off of things.

It was too dark to count cows now, though, even if he desperately needed a distraction. Mack checked to make sure he had an ICER on his belt, shoved his hands in his pockets, and began walking. Going into the town probably wasn’t smart, but the suit he’d worn in the nineties would be fine for 2004.

Why had they jumped less than a decade? What did the Chronicoms hope to accomplish in less than an hour? Unless they knew where Bobbi was, it seemed impossible they’d be able to do anything to her. And if they did find her, they’d have a struggle on their hands. If they hoped getting to Bobbi before she was an agent would make their job easier, they’d be sorely mistaken.

It seemed most people were tucked inside their homes watching the countdown to the new year, and Mack couldn’t blame them. 2005 had been a good year, and he would’ve been glad to live it over again. He’d been happy then, expecting a baby girl and sure of his place in the world.

Funny how quickly things could change.

He continued rambling down main street, scuffing at the asphalt with the toes of his shoes. Soon there would be fireworks and cheering and everything would be starting over. Somewhere not far from here Bobbi Morse would be looking at the sky, and for the first time in four years he’d be looking at the exact same sky - same moon, same stars, same fireworks lighting up the dark.

God, he missed her.

There was no sign of the Chronicoms, either. No one was sneaking in the shadows, so unless they’d gotten themselves invited into a house (which was unlikely, considering how bad they were at impersonating humans) they really weren’t here. Maybe they’d taken a pit stop, for snacks.

Mack snorted, looking down at his feet. Snacks, right. Chronicoms didn’t need snacks.

When he looked back up again, he wasn’t alone anymore. Instinctively he reached for his ICER, but then Mack stopped.

The stranger standing in the spotlight of the streetlamp had choppy blonde hair and a willowy frame he would recognize anywhere and any time.

Mack bit his lip to keep her name from bubbling out of his mouth. Even seeing her was more of a wave than he should be comfortable with - as they’d gotten closer and closer to the present the team had been clear they were not, under any circumstances, to interact with past versions of themselves, but…

But Bobbi wasn’t a past version of himself. And she wasn’t on the team anymore, so technically, _technically_ …

He kept walking forward, as casually as he could. It took everything he had not to trip over himself when she finally turned to look at him.

She was so _young_. Logically, he knew Bobbi was only twenty-one, barely more than a kid, but seeing it starting him in the face was different. Her cheeks were pleasantly round, and the choppiness of her hair spoke more of the choice of a rebellious youth than a bad haircut. The lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth he had grown accustomed to seeing were faded, and her blue eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them.

And now he was staring at a twenty-one-year-old girl in the middle of the street at midnight, like a lech.

“You okay there?” he asked, hoping to mask his staring under the guise of concern.

“Yeah,” she answered, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Typical Bobbi, never willing to admit any sort of weakness. He wondered if Bobbi would’ve been able to help May with her current emotional problem. They were similar, in some ways - both convinced hiding how they felt from the world would somehow keep them safe. Bobbi probably couldn’t have fixed whatever had happened in the temple to make May totally unfeeling, but she might’ve made May feel less alone. 

“You sure? Because most people aren’t out at this hour.”

“You are,” she said standoffishly.

“Yeah, well I never said I was fine.” Mack smiled, tried to look affable, and ignored the ache in his heart at her lack of recognition. They hadn’t met yet, though, and even if they had, Mack was standing in the darkness while she was in the light. There was a metaphor there, somewhere.

“What’s depressing you?” Bobbi asked, shuffling backwards so she could lean against the lamppost. Mack didn’t step forward, unsure if he could justify showing himself under the light. What if Bobbi remembered his face when they met about five years from now? What would she say? What would change?

Mack couldn’t actually remember what Bobbi said the first time they met, and didn’t _that_ hurt like a son of a bitch. He couldn’t remember the last words she’d said, either, just the raising of a glass, a shot he couldn’t finish, a story he still could not believe was over.

“Sometimes you’re just not where you want to be,” he said vaguely. It sounded better than notwhen you wanted to be, even if the latter was more accurate. He wanted to go back to the present, back to when there was a Bobbi who knew him inside and out, a Bobbi who maybe still thought about him, sometimes. Even if he couldn’t see her, he could at least know she was there. 

“Yeah,” Bobbi agreed, chin falling to her chest. “I get that.”

“Yeah?”

“I got invited to this… this really fancy, important school.” Mack sucked in a breath. _The Academy._ “But I don’t think I’m going to go.”

What? No, that wasn’t right. Bobbi had always wanted to join S.H.I.E.L.D., always wanted to make a difference and change the world and all the other stupidly noble things they all thought they were young. Maybe that’s what the Chronicoms had done - somehow convinced her not to join S.H.I.E.L.D.?

Could they really do that much, though? They couldn’t have been here long, could they? And if they did change the timeline, it _was_ Mack’s responsibility to change it back.

Unless he wasn’t supposed to.

Mack wracked his brain, trying to remember something, _anything_ about the stories Bobbi told about her time at the Academy. She would have mentioned if she’d taken a gap year between her PhD and the Academy, right? She would have told him.

She would have told him, wouldn’t she?

“Why’s that?” Mack asked, trying to keep his voice neutral.

“It’s complicated,” Bobbi sighed. “And you probably don’t want to hear about it.”

“I don’t really have anything better to do. My family all went to bed early because they don’t care about the countdown.” The lie came easily, and Mack almost regretted it. Lying to Bobbi shouldn’t have been easy.

“That’s lame.”

Mack shrugged, and hoped Bobbi could see it in the dark. “Yeah, but they’re family, you know?” And even if his family wasn’t all asleep - they were awake on the Zephyr, waiting for him to come back from his walk - the point stood. 

“My dad’s sick,” Bobbi said quietly, hunching her shoulders in a rare display of vulnerability. Mack hadn’t known the cancer had started this early; he’d seen the end of it, when Bobbi flew home once a month to spend time with her father, but never imagined it had started before she even began at S.H.I.E.L.D. “And I wonder if being far away will make it harder.”

“On him or you?” Mack asked gently.

“Both, I think. And my mom. She, uh, isn’t taking it well.” And once again, Mack found he didn’t know what she meant. He didn’t like this, not knowing Bobbi like the back of his hand.

But her dad didn’t die until long after she graduated, almost a decade from now. By then he’d have seen his daughter’s wedding. That had to mean something, right? But Mack couldn’t come out and say so, because that would be making so many waves, and -

And honestly, he was starting to care less about making waves. Not just because they’d already done it with Sousa, but because it was _Bobbi_.

He needed her. He’d needed her _so fucking bad_ when they’d met because his life had still been horribly off-kilter after Hope had died. He’d needed her because she was sure and strong and he’d finally found someone in his life he could lean on as much as they leaned on him. He hadn’t really found that since then, not in a friend. He was fine, being the strong one, most of the time, but _damn_. He couldn’t lose Bobbi.

He couldn’t live a life where he never met Bobbi. His team couldn’t leave lives where they’d never met Bobbi, because regardless of what Simmons said, the best thing she and Hunter had done for S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t been their leaving. It couldn’t be their leaving, because if it was it meant -

It meant they meant _nothing_ beyond what they could sacrifice. It couldn’t be that way, none of his team should be reduced to what they could give up for S.H.I.E.L.D., let alone his best friends.

“You know you don’t owe it to them to stay. They probably want you to be happy, right?”

“They don’t even know I got an offer,” Bobbi said miserably. “I don’t think I’m going to tell them.”

“You afraid they’ll ask you to stay?”

“I’m more afraid of if they ask me to leave.” Bobbi’s voice shook, and Mack wished they were in the present once again. If they were he could’ve hugged her, could’ve told her everything was going to be alright, that she would make the right choice and he’d be there.

He wanted so badly to be _there._

“Besides,” Bobbi said, “I don’t know if I’m good enough.”

That was frankly absurd. Mack struggled to name anyone who was more competent than Bobbi. Even when she had no idea what the hell was going on, Bobbi knew enough to take a deep breath, think, and muddle through.

Except his Bobbi wasn’t a kid in the middle of the street with a sick dad and a future she didn’t know much about. His Bobbi had been through that and come out the other side.

This Bobbi needed help, a little nudge in the right direction.

This was Mack’s last chance to turn back, to decide to make ripples instead of waves, but it was never really a choice. When he needed Bobbi, she had been there. He had to be there when she needed him, just like he always had been. It was going to look a little different this time, but Mack didn’t think he could ever choose to walk away from her.

“Everyone worries they’re not good enough,” Mack said. “And it can be scary to go someplace new and different without knowing what’s going to happen.” Slowly, he stepped forward - still not fully into the light, but enough that she could see his eyes when he met hers. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. It’s okay if you want to stay.”

That hadn’t been what he’d meant to say. He’d meant to talk about adventure, about doing the right thing, about how beautiful the unknown could be, but…

But she was just a kid. She was a kid and she was his best friend and she was scared.

She was _scared_. And he was scared too because he didn’t want to think of a life without her, didn’t know how many waves he could cause, didn’t know why they’d been dropped there in the first place. 

If he was the one who convinced Bobbi not to go to S.H.I.E.L.D. -

“I don’t know what I want,” Bobbi sniffled. “I want to do something good for the world but he’s my _dad_.”

“I know this is going to be hard to hear, but you staying isn’t going to make him less sick.” _Go home and shower, Mack. She’s not going to get better from you hovering._ “And like I said, your dad probably wants you to be happy.” He swallowed hard. “I’m a dad, you know? And if my daughter told me she had the opportunity of a lifetime, I’d want her to take it.” He’d wanted his daughter to live long enough to have those opportunities in the first place, but that didn’t matter.

(It mattered, of course it mattered. But not here. Not now.)

“As for doing good in the world… don’t you think there’s more than one way to go about that?” Mack asked.

“I mean, yeah, but if I’m going to be stuck in a lab my whole life… will I really know the people I’m helping?”

“It still counts even if you don’t see it directly,” Mack reminded her. “You’re a scientist?” he asked, because he wasn’t supposed to know the answer.

“Yeah. I’m giving my thesis defense in May, and then I’ll be a PhD.”

Mack whistled long and low. “Impressive.”

Bobbi wiped at her eyes and cracked a smile. “Thanks.”

“Really, kid,” Mack said, daring to take another half-step closer, “it’s gonna be okay.”

“You can’t promise that. Nobody can.” There was his Bobbi again, stubborn as all hell.

“I never said I was promising anything.” Mack grinned. “But I’m saying you have the power to make it okay.”

“I can’t _make_ my dad less sick.”

“But you can make up your mind to give him your love while he’s here, and you can make up your mind to chase your dreams so he can watch you do it. If you wanna change the world, do some good, why not start with the people who are right there?” Mack really hoped he wasn’t messing this up. He wasn’t sure how to give pep talks to college students.

“You know, I really hate it that you’re right,” Bobbi huffed. She’d given him that same exasperated noise so many times in the years they’d known each other that it almost felt like coming home.

“I don’t even know your name,” Bobbi said suddenly.

Shit. One lie had been hard enough, but two was pushing it. “My real name sucks.” Which was the truth. “Most people just call me M.” Which was a lie. And a pretty bad one, at that.

“M. Like the letter?” Leave it to Bobbi to know when he was lying, even before she learned all his tells.

“Yeah. What’s your name?” Because, again, he wasn’t supposed to know that.

“Barbara, but most people who want to keep their noses intact call me Bobbi.”

“Only most people?”

“Anyone I can take in a fight. So, most people.” There she was grinning again, like she had almost forgotten the weight of the world on her shoulders. And there he was staring again, because he had forgotten so many other things he needed to remember. He needed to remember the cocky tilt of her head, how easily she leaned against the pole, how steady her gaze was on him. If this was the last time he saw her - and who knew, maybe it wouldn’t be - he wanted to remember it all.

“Good to know.” He wasn’t going to ask whether or not she could take him in a fight, because that would push this conversation firmly into the territory of creepy (and she’d be wrong about the answer, because she could kick his ass any day of the week). “So, Bobbi. You gonna go to your special school?”

“I don’t know, M.” Bobbi tipped her chin back to stare up into the streetlight. “But I think I might at least tell my parents. See what they think.”

So he had done enough. Or maybe he had done too much. Mack didn’t know, and right now he didn’t care.

“You should probably get back to your parents,” Mack said after a long minute of silence. He hated to send her away, but… “They’ll want to ring in the new year with you.”

“They’re asleep. Like your family,” Bobbi said. “I’d like to stay here, I think.”

Mack nodded, and they lapsed into silence again. He didn’t know what to say, because everything he wanted to tell Bobbi, he wanted to tell her fifteen years in the future. I love you, I miss you, please don’t forget about me.

A lone firework went off, and Mack checked his watch on reflex. He didn’t think he’d miss the yelling and banging of pots and pans when the clock switched over, but it was better to be sure.

“It’s one minute to midnight,” he told Bobbi quietly.

“Yeah?” Bobbi asked.

“Probably not the New Year’s Eve you imagined,” Mack told her.

“Nah. But I think that’s okay.” She pushed herself off the lamppost and walked into the darkness, presumably so she could see the sky better when the fireworks started going off. “It’s one minute to midnight, and I’m glad you’re standing here, M.”

“Me too, Bobbi.”

And he couldn’t put his arm around her shoulders, or reach for her hand, but he could stand beside her, their faces turned towards the sky. He could be sure they were looking at the same sky, because she was right here. Not his Bobbi, not quite yet, but she would be someday, if she decided to go to the Academy.

Echoes from open windows counted down from ten to one, but he and Bobbi were silent. Fireworks lit up the sky in a rainbow of colors, booming overhead like thunder. Clanging sounds echoed through the streets, accompanied by joyous shouts, and still they stood.

One year was over, and a new one had begun. Bobbi Morse was going to be an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and Mack - Mack had to go.

“I hope your life is everything you want it to be, Bobbi,” he said slowly. _I hope you find me. I hope we’re happy, even if it’s only for a while._

“You’re leaving?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t want the missus to worry.” Or to get stuck in 2005. The 2000s were a decade that only needed to be lived once.

“Alright,” Bobbi said. Maybe it was his imagination, but she almost looked disappointed to see him go. “Thank you. For talking to me.”

“Any time,” Mack said. “You deserve someone who will listen, alright?” And if things went the way they were supposed to, she’d find someone who would. Right now he was just on the other side of the world, enrolled in the British army.

“Thanks,” Bobbi repeated. “Before you go - what’s the M short for?”

This time, Mack didn’t panic. Instead, he smiled. “Mockingbird.”

“Mockingbird?” she repeated.

“My parents were weird,” he said, hoping she caught his wink even in the dim lighting. “Goodbye, Bobbi.”

He turned around and walked away while he still could. If he looked at her too long he might not have been able to do it. A shot glass, half-empty on the table -

Something caught his eye, a shadow flickering in a nearby alleyway, and Mack paused as much as he could allow himself to. A Chronicom, the man who seemed to be leading the charge, stepped into the light just enough for Mack to see him and recognize him - and then turned around, walking back into the shadows. Away from Bobbi.

So they didn’t want to kill her. They wanted…

They wanted Bobbi to join S.H.I.E.L.D.

Mack broke into a run, and found his way back to the Zephyr with thirty seconds to spare.

“Thank goodness,” Jemma breathed. “We thought we’d have to leave without you.”

 _They need Bobbi_. The words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t put her in danger, and while Mack trusted none of the team would ever suggest they kill Bobbi to remove her from the Chronicom’s equation, he didn’t want to give any of them the chance to even _think_ about it. She was too precious to him.

“What happened?” Elena asked lowly when he stepped back to her side.

“I… I made sure history went the way it was supposed to,” Mack said. He’d tell her the whole truth later, when Deke wasn’t obviously spying on what he said.

“In half an hour?” Elena was understandably dubious.

“Sometimes all you need is one conversation at the right time,” Mack answered. The Zephyr started shaking, and they began another trip forward into the future. Mack had a feeling he knew when they were jumping to.

One of the biggest things Bobbi had done as an agent, besides saving his ass a dozen times, was decide not to take down the Iliad, and start Real S.H.I.E.L.D. That made more sense to Mack as a turning point in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s history than Bobbi and Hunter leaving, especially considering the Chronicoms had _let_ him talk to her.

If he was right, and they went to when the Iliad fell, he was going to have to stay on the Zephyr. He could fool Bobbi once, but not twice, and he sure as hell couldn’t fool himself. They’d known crossing time streams was going to happen, eventually, but Mack hadn’t thought about the Iliad or Real S.H.I.E.L.D. for a long time. It was time for that to change, because if that was where they were about to land, his team needed to be prepared.

They needed Director Mackenzie. Not Mack, and definitely not M.

He’d have to leave M behind in 2005 on a dark street in a California town - leave him behind in the half-empty shot, sitting on a bar, in a future that wasn’t yet certain.


End file.
